Price Paid For Precision
by KillerQueenHelekonla
Summary: Set after the end of the manga, so SPOLIERS ALERT! What if Truth didn't take Ed's Alchemy but something else...? Another of my friend's dA requests with some specifics: Recurring motif - the sun and/or doomsday; and these lines: "He never was the same after clown school." "I'm secretly a fangirl." "Where'd the unicorns go?" "I need to go to the toilet, but this is too exciting."
1. Prologue

**Trustworthy Teens, Traitorous Truths and Tumultuous Tragedies**

Truth – known to some as God (various names to that one, some from the same religion but for different aspects of His personality), the Universe, or the Force (He likes the sound of the last one best) – smirks at His visitor: a human who has dared to enter God's domain by attempting to use Alchemy to create a human body. Which is, of course, _not_ something Truth wants to encourage humans – particularly Alchemists – to do: He can't have humans running around, willy-nilly, trying to create zombie armies and such. Not without some form of terrible punishment, anyway. His guest knows this well, but is unfazed and undaunted by the prospect. It turns its blond head away from Truth, its mind – which is considerably and remarkably full for a human – made up. Truth takes a moment to consider the human, who is currently walking toward the Gate of Truth.

His guest is a sixteen-year-old boy – known famously in the World as the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric. The boy's shoulder-length gilded locks are mainly pulled back in a braid tied at the bottom with a crimson ribbon: only a fringe – split in the middle to frame Edward's face – with a single, gold antenna in the middle, are loose. The slightly shorter-than-average alchemist is clad black leather pants and boots, as well as a black singlet-shirt and a blood-red coat with an ink-like Alchemy sign embroiled on the back, his white gloves with similar markings in black.

If the gloves and boots come off, the ends of his automail limbs are visible: his flesh right arm and left leg were traded to Truth five years ago, so the 11-year-old Edward had opted to replace them with metal versions. Despite this, he has retained a young, slightly elfish face, and a cheeky, self-confident smirk, which, when angered, gives an unaware opponent more of an idea of just how powerful the boy actually is, unlike his stature. But what Truth finds _most_ fascinating about the boy – apart from Edward's seemingly random and slightly suicidal disregard for his own life, for the sake of others – is Edward's _eyes_.

Truth has seen many eye colours over His time, but Edward's eyes are not brown or green or hazel or blue, or any of the other "dull" colours that most humans have. Edward's eyes are _gold_. They sparkle wonderfully with hope and love and laughter at times: those are times when Edward seems to be the living embodiment of sunshine. Truth has never, Himself, seen this but (as He is Truth) He knows this is so regardless. He also knows that clouds will soon dim sunshine and His name will be cursed. Again. He waits until Edward's hand is on the Gate's handle before He speaks.

"You know what you have to give up for this, right?" Truth giggles, knowing the answer: both the boy's _and_ the right one. He can't help Himself. Though He is intrigued by the possibility of sunbeams, He much prefers cumulonimbus clouds, as they shoot sparks of death through the sky and blot out the sun. At the idea of this, His Cheshire cat grin widens and He giggles manically again. Edward ignores this, and widens his smirk. He thinks that Truth can't see this, but – of course – nothing can be hidden from Truth.

"Of course, but I'm not going to miss it." Truth erupts into laughter, barely eliciting a backwards, raised-eyebrow glance from Edward as the boy disappears through the Gate: a pity, because had he hesitated for a mere second longer, he might have heard Truth's counter-reply.

"Oh, if only you knew Me, you wouldn't be saying that." A warm emotion sweeps through Truth as He gains Edward's sacrifice in exchange for two limbs, his younger brother's body, and the ability to save the world. He shivers, slightly disgusted by the feelings coursing through Him, though He can do nothing about it.

Equivalent Exchange dictates that Alchemists may only gain using Alchemy _if_ they sacrifice something of equal value. Edward has fought against life's obstacles so that one day he will be free to love safely and whole in every respect. To do that, the world needs saving, his brother's soul needs a more human-esque housing (namely his own body), and Edward himself needs his body to be whole again – or so the young Alchemist believes. Moreover, to gain – or _re_gain, as the case may be – these things, Alchemy must be used, with the usual rules of Equivalent Exchange, of course.

And so the heart – which yearns to love the way its owner desires – has been sacrificed, though Edward won't know it for quite some time. He might take _years_ to figure it out, instead dwelling on the "mystery" of why his Alchemy is still with him. That is, until the question of why the full emotion he once felt for his beloved is now nothing but a shadow of a feeling. But Truth's not particularly worried about that at this point: He's more concerned with what's going to happen to _Him_ now that He's got Edward's feelings of love. After all, it's not like He's going to have them returned or anything anyway. At the thought, Truth whimpers and falls onto his side, before curling up in the foetal position.

_Doomsday is coming for sure,_ Truth's inner voice whines, sounding pathetic. _I'm in love, and she's never gonna love me back!_ Truth decides He doesn't like humans' feelings, especially Edward's. Next time, He'll take their stupid Alchemy, whoever they are. That'll serve them right for fighting for what they love!

Of course, He forgets His oath the second another Alchemist comes along. He's not that interested, so He pays little attention to the man. It's the second time the man's been here today: he wants what Truth took from him last time. And Truth knows the man wants to be able to see the one he loves. So, He takes _his_ love. It's not as strong as Edward's deep devotion (or what's actually _Truth's_ deep devotion, curse it so): it's only just started to bloom. It'd be bearable on its own, but since it's combined with the love He took from Edward, Truth is stuck with a clash in feelings: budding romance for _one_ woman verses soulful adoration of _another_.

With a whimpering whine, Truth collapses on His side again, cursing both the two humans. He spitefully hopes that they'll soon feel as torn and full of angst as He does now: like some lovelorn adolescent pining after a juvenile crush, and their long-time obsession at the same time. And then some.


	2. Chapter 1

**Dissipating Dear Decades on Deteriorating Devotions**

Edward Elric's always had a good memory. One of the best, in fact: he can remember facts, figures and dates without even really trying much. He knows that it's exactly four years – to the day exactly – have passed since he – with the help of Roy Mustang, Alphonse Elric, Van Hohenheim, and Riza Hawkeye (to name just a few) – saved the world from the being who named itself "Father" and his Homunculi (since that day, he's always referred to it as "The Battle"). It was also three years, ten months, one week since he and Al had returned to their hometown of Liesenburg. Three years, six months since Ed had _finally_ admitted his feelings to his childhood friend and long-time love, Winry Rockbell. Three years, five months, three weeks, six days since Winry told him she loved him too and they started up a promising, loving relationship together. Three years, four months, two days since Al had set off for Xing, intent on exploring the world on his own and finding the pretty Xingese girl, Mei, who had managed to capture the 15-year-old's heart at some point in one of her few appearances during the brothers' travels to reclaim Al's body and Ed's arm.

Three years, four months since Ed openly pledged allegiance to Roy as a supporter of the older man's goal of becoming Fuhrer: it was mostly due to Ed's belief that the man would be a great leader of the country – and also, in part, due to the two having formed a strange, yet inexplicably strong friendship after The Battle. Three years, three months, six days since Roy and Riza had begun a tentative relationship, deciding to take things as slowly as possible and see how things went. Two years, two months, two weeks, two days since Roy was promoted up several ranks for his incredible talent as an Alchemist. Two years, two months, two weeks since Ed, himself, received promotions for the same reasons, having remained a National Alchemist since The Battle (he had come to love the job in a strange sort of way, despite the fact that he was continually commuting from Central to Liesenburg and therefore spent less time with Winry).

Two years, two months, one week since Al returned to Liesenburg with Mei at his side and the goal of becoming a doctor, using the Healing Alchemy techniques he'd learned in Xing. Two years, one month, six days since Ed married Winry and the couple moved to Central to start a family there, so that Ed would be able to see his family every day instead of two or three times a week. One year, nine months, five days since Al had married Mei and joined his brother in Central: he actually ended up buying the house next to Ed's, much to the delight of both brothers (being the only Elric's left, they had grown even closer than before, through frequent postcards, letters, and phone calls). One year, nine months, four days since Al had begun working as a doctor at a prestigious hospital, where he was praised for his talents (Ed was extremely proud of his brother, and celebrated by buying Al a cat: something which the younger brother hadn't got around to doing himself at that point).

One year, eleven months, three weeks, two days since Al had become a father for the first time when Mei gave birth to Hohenheim Ling Elric (named for the two brothers' father, who had died during The Battle and the eccentric Xingese prince they'd met prior to that). One year, two weeks, five days since Al's _second_ son, Maes Alex Elric, entered the world (he was named for the brave, loving, devoted father and husband Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes who had been killed by a Homunculus prior to The Battle, and also for Major Alex Louis Armstrong: one of the Elric's best and closest allies and friends).

One year, one week, six days since Winry had dragged Ed to a fertility clinic (much to the now-19-year-old's mortification) in order to determine why their luck was running on empty pregnancy-wise. One year, one week since they were told – with little sympathy from the doctors – that Winry would never be able to fall pregnant or give birth, leaving the young couple both distraught and depressed, though Winry suffered worse than Ed. Eleven months, one day since Winry pulled herself together enough to talk to Ed about the possibility of adoption, seeing as both had still wanted children (she hadn't liked the idea of surrogates and immediately vetoed it the second the suggestion left Ed's mouth). Eleven months since Roy and Riza had had a dramatic breakup – at work, no less – when Roy was forced to admit that he no longer had romantic feelings for Riza, apologising profusely, and insisting that he had honestly thought that he _had_ been developing feelings for her until three days prior to that day. Ten months, three weeks, five days since Ed, Armstrong, and Al had taken Roy on a week-long camping and fishing trip to help him deal with the separation.

Ten months, two weeks, two days since Ed and Winry's application for becoming eligible for adopting or fostering a child was rejected, on the grounds that Winry was too emotionally unstable (Ed had argued that _any_ woman who had wanted a baby for so long – and couldn't give birth herself – would, perhaps, become more than enthusiastic about the prospect of adoption; the reply was that because this was coupled with violent tendencies, they couldn't allow for it: Winry hadn't helped the situation when she flew into a rage and threw a spanner at the CEO's head). Ten months, two weeks, two days since Winry started drinking heavily, unable to cope with the idea that she'd never be a mother.

Nine months, three weeks, six days since it occurred to Ed – when he was once again pondering why Truth hadn't taken his Alchemy away, and his train of thought strayed – that perhaps he didn't love Winry as much anymore. Eight months, two weeks, six days since he figured it out: though "no" had been the answer he'd hoped never to come to, it was also the _only_ conclusion he could find (he doesn't tell_anyone_). Seven months, one week, four days since it suddenly occurred to him that – actually – he hadn't been romantically interested in Winry for a while (he still told no one). Five months, three weeks since he traced it all the way back to The Battle (some of the people closest to him – including Al although, strangely, not Winry – were beginning to suspect something was wrong, but Ed kept his mouth shut: he needed to get everything figured out first).

Four months, two weeks, one day since Ed worked out why he still has his Alchemy, and – more importantly – what Truth took instead of it (he finally broke his resolve and told his brother: he'd wanted to figure out the best way to tell Winry, though, so he swore Al to secrecy when). One month, one week, one day since Roy was voted and sworn in as Fuhrer, after King Bradley's replacement committed suicide (Ed took his friend out for congratulatory drinks, but was sure not to talk about his problems at home: he trusts Roy, but wants as few to know as possible). One month since Winry had started noticing that something was wrong (Ed still puts it down to alcohol no longer dulling her senses so much, allowing her to notice things _outside_ her own bubble of misery, including Ed's growing emotional distance). Three weeks, five days since he told her nothing was wrong, the lie naturally rolling off his tongue without so much as a flinch (Roy knew the truth by that point – bringing the tally to three, including Ed – having wheedled it out of his golden-haired subordinate. In a surprising moment of empathy and compassion, that served to remind Ed of just how close he had become to the other man, Roy had confidentially told him that exact the same thing had happened to his love for Riza).

Two weeks, four days since the non-stop fighting between Ed and Winry had begun. Two weeks, two days since she upped her ante and began to become physically violent toward him if he got too close to her (he hadn't hit back: he believes it's wrong to hit women in any circumstance). One week, three days since Ed came home from work, only to be told by Winry that because his "affairs", she would no longer sleep in their king-size bed, as she also believed he had taken his "mistresses" home and slept with them there (he never even_thought_ of having an affair, and she had no proof or reason other than "intuition" to suspect him of it. The unfairness of it all enraged and embittered Ed greatly); she also informed him that she had already set up the guest room for herself.

Three days since the couple had both finally calmed down enough to agree that they should cool off some more, so that they could discuss their relationship together as peacefully as possible. Two days since she had presented him with divorce papers, her bags already packed, and – before signing them – they had talked a little about how it all went wrong: Ed had come clean about his lack of love, and Winry had replied that the blame was equally shared, since it was _her_ fault that he'd come to realise it at all, due to her drinking; she also told him she was leaving to rejoin her grandmother in Liesenburg (she'd always hated Central, and had decided to leave once she was "free" of Ed).

One day since Roy had turned up on Ed's doorstep, drenched from the pouring rain and homeless after a jealous ex-rival – who had since fled, seeing as he'd been seen by at least ten people, including Roy – had burned it to the ground that morning (luckily the new Fuhrer had escaped the blaze before he could come to harm). He'd begged the younger man for a place to stay and Ed had readily agreed to his friend's request, silently thankful that Winry had left the task of disassembling the guest room to _him_ (she still believed, despite his numerous refutes of the notion, that he had been adulterous at some point during their marriage).

So here he is today: almost 20 and newly-divorced, living with his country's leader, wishing with all his heart that Truth had taken his Alchemy instead. Before that, Winry had been the centre of his universe: his rock, his friend, his love. No matter what darkness had tried to take him, she'd been there, shining like the sun; she _was_ his sun and she had dispelled the nightly shadows trying to surround his soul. Without her, there _is_ no sun in his world, and the weather seems to agree, rain thundering down for days on end. But he doesn't cry: it's as if, deep down, he _knew_ and that he had subconsciously adjusted to live without warmth and light in his life. No, he lets the sky weep for him and spends his time alone, deep in reverie at his desk in his mini-library (he's collected a huge number of books over the last few years, and ended up converting the house's second den into one with bookshelves lining the walls, beanbags for the children he'd hoped to have, as well as Al's kids, and his own small desk for reading and the like). Suddenly, he feels a presence beside him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Ed drifts his unfocused gaze from the rain-lashed window to Roy's face. He forces himself to centre attention on his friend, not wanting to seem rude also and to shake off the depressing thoughts floating around in his head. He notices, first of all, that Roy's dragged one of the beanbags to sit beside him.

"The last four years," he admits tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "How I wasted all that time on a relationship doomed to fail because I didn't love her anymore. Even if I didn't know it. At first, y'know, I thought at first, it was because of her drinking, and because we couldn't have kids. But that didn't make sense because it didn't matter to me, really: we had each other, and I always thought that'd be enough for me. And then suddenly, it was like it wasn't and I couldn't understand why. It was confusing.

"Sometimes… I think I always knew, though, deep down; that I was just trying to find reasons to tell myself that I _fell_ out of love somewhere along the track, not that Truth took it before I'd even cemented the relationship. I… I just wish I'd realised it _before_ we got married and everything, because it was just a waste of my time. I could've been out there doing… who knows what instead of wasting four years of my life on a relationship that had failed before I even started it." Roy gently pats Ed's shoulder, trying to reassure the golden-haired man.

"Hey, it's not _all_ a waste. I mean look at what you've got: a beautiful house, a steady well-paying job, a loyal brother, a motherly sister-in-law and two beautiful nephews. That's all gotta count for _something_."

"True; and I've got some pretty powerful friends, too," he jokes. Roy chuckles.

"You know, if someone had told either of us, five years ago, that we'd be _friends_ let alone roommates, we'd have… what _would_ we have done?" Ed laughs.

"Oh, you'd have turned them into extra-crispy chicken, and I'd have transmuted my arm into a machete and hacked them to death, I think. After we'd stopped laughing hysterically, of course." They snigger together at the thought, and an easy silence falls between them. Ed marvels at how comfortable he is around Roy, even in silence. He'd always thought, as a teen, that Roy would be difficult to get used to as a friend, but the truth is that it's the exact opposite. The 30-year-old is easy to talk to, and Ed appreciates the company he provides, especially since Winry's departure. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him about their living arrangements.

"Roy, what're we going to tell people about your staying here? Someone's going to notice, especially since tonight Al's bringing his family over for dinner. I mean, _they_ won't care, but what about others?" Roy shrugs nonchalantly.

"That I need protection until the man who burned down my home is gone," Roy replies simply, "and that the best source of that is from the country's best Alchemist." Ed chuckles.

"Why _does_ he hate you, anyway?" he asks, curious. Since yesterday, they haven't really talked about their own problems, opting to chat aimlessly about random things instead. But now both cans of worms are open and there's no getting out of either conversation, really. Roy sighs, looking exhausted suddenly.

It reinforces what Ed knows already: when someone's house is burnt down, whether by themselves or others, it hurts. It hurts because their home's been destroyed and everything that once was a part of their life – clothes, beds, photos, collected items, family heirlooms: anything that didn't make it out of the house – is gone forever. Yes, houses can be rebuilt. Yes, appliances, furniture and knickknacks can (for the most part) be replaced. Yes, more photos can be taken and lost ones copied from duplicates belonging to others. But everything that was once your home is gone. And there's no taking it back. Ed can hear the loss ringing through Roy's tone as he speaks.

"He was a good friend, until he found out that I'd been promoted to a higher rank than him. Since he's about 20 years older than me, he was indignant, to say the least, that I'd been given seniority over him. Every time I got promoted, he'd get a bit nastier towards me. Nothing really bad, mind, but it kept me on my toes. And then, when I became Fuhrer, I think he kind of lost it: took it as a personal attack and insult to him. What he did was pretty cruel, yeah, but… I understand that he felt cheated and jaded." Ed snorts derisively.

"It's not _your_ fault that _he_ wasn't talented enough to get promoted, or that people noticed that _you_ are because you actually try to make yourself better at what you do. If he really wanted promotions, _or_ the Fuhrership, he should've worked harder on bettering himself, instead of moping around lazily and holding grudges." Roy chuckles lowly.

"Well, that _would_ make sense, logically. But he's not thinking rationally: he's angry and he needs someone to blame his shortcomings on. I'm more successful, so I'm in the firing line. You, too, really: he's a second lieutenant." Ed raises an eyebrow, smirking with amusement.

"Seriously? Delusions of grandeur _that_ strong?"

"He never _was_ the same after clown school," Roy sighs. "That's from what I can gather about what he was like before coming into the army, anyway. He grew up with carnie folk all around him, since his _parents_ were part of a circus. Before he joined the army, he was training to become a clown in there. I think they taught him to internalise his emotions, and eventually he couldn't keep it all in anymore. I just happened to be the one he was focusing on the most at the time. He could've done any_thing_ to any_one_, really."

"So why didn't someone fire him? The guy's volatile, not to mention he's a fifty-year-old _second lieutenant_. I mean, come _on_." Roy chuckles bitterly.

"That would've made it _worse_, believe it or not. He would've done something _much_ more horrific if we fired him. He'd never done anything wrong before that, so we didn't have a valid reason anyway. We had to wait until he actually _did_ something before we could act. You can't just fire someone because you _think_ they're going to hurt someone." Ed raises an eyebrow critically.

"The man could've killed you, Roy. In fact, he _meant_ to, and you know that damn well. Don't act like it's nothing. It's only down to Lady Luck herself that you're still here, seeing as you don't have smoke alarms." Roy hums agreeably.

"True. I've already started reconsidering whether my deep loathing for that incredibly annoying squeal of theirs whenever I practice Alchemy at home really justifies their complete absence. After all, I can't just stop using my Alchemy – Fuhrer or not, I need my skills up to scratch – but I can't just _exclude_ them anymore: not after what happened yesterday."

"That's probably for the best," Ed nods. Roy shakes his head as if to clear it.

"Enough of this reminiscing shit. We'll both hang ourselves if we keep going. What time are we expecting Al tonight?" something in the way Roy so casually says "we" sends a flood of guilt and emptiness through Ed's veins: only 72 hours ago, it would've been Winry asking that question – even if they _were_ fighting at the time. He manages to keep the wave of feelings out of everything except his eyes – he's never quite mastered the art of controlling his eyes' expressiveness – but Roy tactfully keeps his mouth shut on sudden shift in Ed's emotions.

"About 6 tonight, he said: the boys both need to be in bed by 8'oclock, so they'll only be here an hour and a half, tops."

"Right. What're the kids' names again? I know one's four and blond, and the other's three and black-haired, but that's all. I only met them once, really, and I haven't spoken to Al in a while."

"The four-year-old is Hohenheim, and the three-year-old is Maes." At the mention of his old best friend's name, a funny sort of half-smile creeps across Roy's face.

"Hughes really influenced you two, huh?"

"Yeah, but not as much as the bastardly Colonel in charge of us at the time, though," Ed smiles, trying to lighten the mood. He feels slightly accomplished when the creases in Roy's face begin to smooth out again, and the smile becomes truer.

"Oh really?" he chuckles.

"Mm-hmm. Always being snarky, y'know? But I guess he wasn't all bad. I mean, he _did_ leave the room, sometimes. Always admired that about him: best aspect of his personality, really." Ed grins cheekily at Roy's scowl, but he can see the Fuhrer's eyes sparkling. Behind it, though, he can still see pain, and it worries him.

"Cheeky subordinate!" Roy growls jokingly. "I should fire your sorry behind for that!" Ed laughs heartily, deciding to nip the problem – which he's thought he could avoid – in the bud.

"Hughes was a great guy to us, Roy. When I got hurt that time at the research institute the Homunculi blew up, he took time off work to come see us both. Didn't even know us all that well, but he made time for us. You guys had a lot in common in that respect. I think Al wanted to honour him because of that: to make sure he'd remember him in some way other than visits to a graveyard." Roy nods thoughtfully.

"What's the kid like?" he asks, and Ed can hear a tint of hurt.

"He's a good kid; both of them are. Well-behaved, well-mannered, well-cared-for. They'd be perfect if they weren't such damn trouble-making little hyperactive monkey-children." – He affectionately growls the last part – "Doesn't help that they've both mastered the Puppy Dog Stare of Innocence. But, like Mei says, you gotta make-do with what you've got." Roy smirks.

"As long as they don't annoy me, I won't kill them."

"Mm-hmm. And if you're lucky, they won't like you so much and leave you in peace." An eyebrow, on Roy's part, is raised quizzically.

"'Lucky'?"

"Yup. Unless you _like_ miniature human-like primates attempting to tear you in two, over who gets to play with you first because they won't play with you together." Roy snorts in disbelief.

"Surely it can't be _that_ bad." Ed shakes his head solemnly.

"The cheeky little bastards will monopolise you, given half a chance. But don't _ever_ try to choose if they decide to rip you in half. If you value your life, for the love of Alchemy, _do not_ attempt to choose. Not even something like 'both of you.'"

"Does Ed speak from experience? Roy sounds amused.

"Yes. Ed has the scars to prove that a person's siblings' monkey-children are the sole root all evil in their life. He is only thankful that the little devils in his own do not know his most easily and painfully exploitable weakness, and rues the day – inevitable as it is – that they_do_." As they both simultaneously wince and chuckle at the thought, Ed thinks to himself that he just might be able to survive in a world without his once-beloved sun.

So long as he has his friends and family beside him, perhaps, even if it never clears, the cloud-cover on his life might just gain a silver lining. But then the thought triggers a fresh wave of guilt and emptiness, and Ed is left wondering whether a bit of silver on a cloud really makes up for a lack of golden sunshine in one's universe. And, seeing as it's pretty certain that Winry's not going to be able to fill the role, where on _Earth_ he's going to find another sun.


	3. Chapter 2

**Fridays Fuelled by Foolish Females' Funny Films of Feline Fetishes**

Al and Mei arrive exactly on time, Hohenheim and Maes in tow. Roy doesn't wince as much as he thought he would when Mei tells the little black-haired boy pressed close to her side to say hello to "Uncle Roy". And the Flame Alchemist completely forgives any and all subconscious irritation at Al for his naming of the child, when Maes shyly puts out his hand out – the other fisted and pressed to his lips, eyes wide in fear and wonderment at the man kneeling before him, smiling kindly – with an adorable "Heyyo, Unca Woy." Roy shakes the hand, already smitten by the tiny child's bashfulness, and says that it's nice to meet him. His comment is greeted with a sunshine beam, much like Ed's real smile.

The only warning Roy gets that _Hohenheim_ is nearby, though, is an ominously cheerful "Unnncaaaaa Rooooyyyyy!" before he's tackled to the ground (apparently, Hohenheim remembers him from the one or two times they met). The child seems to be attempting to simultaneously crush Roy's head and give the man a heart attack, though Roy's spared both by millimetres. Not that the near-miss garners him any sympathy: the Elric's laughter can be heard on the moon while he gasps for air and tries to crawl away from the python-like death-grip.

Of course, _Ed_ is mercilessly tackle-hugged by _both_ children, who then proceed to set off on a rampage around the house. Roy is secretly thankful that all the valuable things he owns are safely locked away in a cupboard to which only he and Ed have the key: it seems that Hohenheim's exuberance has unlocked Maes'. Roy wonders to himself about whether this is a biological or a psychological response. He's not sure if he really wants the answer to that, so he keeps his mouth shut.

It quickly becomes apparent that both boys are already high on something that was probably pumped full of sugar, though neither parent is willing to admit exactly _how_ their children got so buzzed. Ed tells Roy he suspects Al gave them energy drinks (since he _always_ caves in to the hyper monkey-children's demands), but that Mei's guilty eyes when he asked makes him believe that she may have supplied Pop Rocks (and _Roy_ suspects his friend has been spending _way_ too much time analysing his brother's and his sister-in-law's faces than is probably healthy).

Either way, it amuses both bachelors to no end to watch Mei and Al racing after their children, both attempting to stop their sons from turning the place into a replica of Roy's apartment ten years ago. Even dinner does little to curb their enthusiasm: the boys barely even settle for the meal, cleaning their plates in two minutes flat, before returning to their hummingbird-like antics.

Watching Ed out of the corner of his eye as Al and Mei set off for the second round of Catch-Hohenheim-and-Maes-Before-They-Break-Something, Roy's thankful that Al decided to have a family dinner: tonight is the most Ed's really smiled for longer than a minute in about ten months. Carefree and radiating bliss, it makes Roy think of the warm sun on lazy summer days from many, many untroubled years ago (though _why_ is a mystery). The grin turns itself on him, and he feels himself smiling back warmly. It occurs to Roy just how comfortable he is around Ed: there are few people he'd let his guard down like this in front of, especially since what happened with his house and his would-be assassin.

Though he doesn't speak of it, the act left him more than a little shocked and wary of everyone around him, especially those he's wronged in the past. It proved to him that almost no one – even the most unscrupulous or incompetent – is trustable. His exception is, of course, the Elric's – particularly Ed –, because they give him a sense of security and family, even if they're not his own. Riza's family, though lovely and kind, didn't completely feel like somewhere he fit in naturally. And perhaps it's being called "uncle" or simply sharing in their familial bliss, but the outsider feelings don't enter into his equation with Ed's family. There's a real sense of kinship and family: he feels like an unspoken, yet loved, adoptee into the family. And he lets himself smile and laugh along because of that.

To the relief of all, the two boys fall asleep the second their sugar highs wear off, literally dropping where they stand. No one is more relieved than Roy, who both Hohenheim and Maes had been charging towards, demented looks of glee stretched across their faces. The hapless Fuhrer actually wonders if it's a trap until Ed nudges Maes' head with his foot, causing the tiny cranium to listlessly loll sideways. Roy's brow creases slightly in worry as Ed calls his brother to the living room, with an "Oi! Al! Your monsters are temporarily incapacitated by unconsciousness!"

"Are they okay?" Ed nods nonchalantly, flopping down next to Roy as both bone-weary parents stumble into the room and each grab an offspring by the scruff, arranging the two unconscious ones on the couch.

"Don't worry, they're just conked out. 'S why you don't give kids lots of sugar." – He gives Al a pointed look, before softening his gaze – "So you guys staying here tonight, then?" Al sighs tiredly as Mei fusses over her sons.

"We're gonna have to. Sorry, Nii-san." The older Elric shrugs and waves a hand airily.

"Doesn't matter. Hey, you guys wanna see something Roy and I found out my computer picks up?" He grins at Roy, who returns it with a smirk, while Al's jaw drops and Mei's eyes light up.

"Nii-san! You didn't modify it to pick up… _Internet from Other Worlds_, did you?" Ed and Roy share a look, before resuming their façade of innocence.

"No, of course not, Al!" Ed soothes. "Well… _technically_ not…" A loud screech and a clap snap the focus away from the younger Elric and his argument, to his wife.

"Can we watch, can we watch?" Mei begs. Roy can see who her sons learnt "Puppy-Eyes" from.

"Sure, why not," Ed smiles, moving to retrieve his laptop from the study. Roy can only stare as Mei squeals like a 12-year-old schoolgirl in the mosh pit at a concert for her favourite band. The woman – somewhere between 18 and 20, admittedly – notices her husband's blank glare and Roy's incredulity, and freezes mid-squee.

"What? I'm secretly a Fangirl. So sue me." Al huffs stubbornly.

"Well, I don't care: it's illegal, and _I_ for one am not watching it."

"Roy is and he's the Fuhrer," Mei points out.

"So? It's still illegal, and I refuse to watch it! Absolutely and completely."

_Twenty Minutes Later…._

"Oh, _wow_ that was funny!" Ed sniggers. "Ooh! Let's pick another one! Shall we? Who wants to watch another clip on this 'YouTube'?" Roy can't breathe for all the laughter. Luckily, Hohenheim and Maes have been moved to Roy's bedroom so the noise won't wake them, so he doesn't have to worry about restraining himself.

"Yes! Another!" Mei cheers, tears of mirth streaming down her face.

"Click that one, Nii-san!" Al cries through his giggles. "The 'eHarmony' one!" Ed obliges and the quartet is soon in stitches again as the woman on-screen begins to sob about her love for cats partway through the video.

"Look, Al!" Ed crows. "It's the female version of you!"

"_Nii-san_!" Al protests, whining. "I do not cry when thinking of cats!"

"Yeah, Ed, be nice," Roy snickers. "Al's lip only _wobbles_ at the sight. No tears at all."

"Taisa! I do not!" Mei nods sagely.

"Yes, my husband does _not_ cry at the sight or thought of cats! Fangirl, yes. But never does a tear fall from his eyes!" Al sulks for about two minutes, muttering about Taisas and Nii-sans that laugh at cat-lovers and wives who don't help the situation one little bit, whatsoever. He rejoins the giggling trio in the end, but only because they call out half-hearted, still-amused apologies (in sync, too).

Eventually, the night reaches middle-age, and Al and Mei head off to bed in the guest room. Roy starts setting up on the couch when Ed, too, decides to turn in for the night. He's arranging pillows in his pyjamas when he hears a voice being cleared from the doorway.

"What're you doing, Roy?" He looks up to see Ed standing there, arms crossed over his chest and looking a little less-than-impressed.

"Oh, I'll sleep here tonight, since Al and Mei need the guest room. If we shared a bed it… it might be weird, and if someone finds out later, it could be… really bad…" Ed rolls his eyes.

"One: no one's gonna find out, and if they do, who cares? Nothing _wrong_ is going to happen. Two: it'll only be weird if you _make_ it weird. Three: this room, particularly that couch, is an icebox. You'll freeze to death if you sleep here; you could have all the blankets in the house and you'd still be frozen. C'mon: the bed's a double and I'm more than sure that I can keep to myself." The last part is said in good humour, a cheeky grin accompanying it. For the second time that night, Roy feels like he's been bathed in golden sunshine, though he's still not sure why he keeps thinking that about _Ed's smile_.

After sides of the bed have been established, and Ed's soft snores fill the air, Roy remembers just how nice it is to have someone sharing the same bed, even if it's just a friend. He doesn't really miss Riza – not any more – but he _has_ missed having someone who's always there: someone at home after work, or to be home after work _for_; someone to talk to about random, little things and big, meaningful topics; just having _someone_ there whenever you need them to be, even if you don't think you do.

He feels a pang in his chest to remember how Riza used to fill that role. He's never doubted that he _did_ love Riza once, or that he'd begun to, anyway. He'd never felt love like that before, and – although terrifying – he'd been falling hard for the woman, before Truth ripped it all away from him. In his heart, he knows that if nothing had happened, if he'd never asked for his vision back, he'd probably be like Al: married, possibly with kids (while the latter thought has never _particularly_ appealed to him, he's never been strongly adverse to it either).

But now he only feels an empty, hollow shell of feelings, like the sooty imprint on a wall of a victim of spontaneous combustion: the last and only proof that they'd ever been there in the first place. He chuckles to himself a little, because it's funny that, despite the fact that he'd thought he was completely over the loneliness, he really _isn't_. Ed's presence, as a good friend, has been a real blessing to the Flame Alchemist, because it reminds Roy that he's not alone in the world, even if Riza's in his life anymore.

He wonders if _his_ presence is the same to _Ed_, as Ed's is to his: is the Full-Metal Alchemist happy to have Roy there? Has he, too, started feeling less lonely because there's actually someone – albeit a friend – who's filling in some of the empty spaces? Do things in Ed's life seem a little more bearable because of Roy's presence? The Flame Alchemist simply doesn't know, and he's not willing to ask, either. What he _does_ know is that it's like the clouds have parted over his life to reveal that sunny smile, which brightens up his day just by _being _there. Roy tries not to think about the implications of it all as he starts to fall asleep.


	4. Chapter 3

**Quitting Quite Quickly, Quelling Quiet Quintessential Queries With Quirky Questions.**

Ed emerges into Not-Quite-Awake-But-Aware-Of-Things Land to note – though only vaguely, as one does when one has just partially emerged from the blissful unconsciousness of sleep – that he's snuggled up to someone. His brain wonders, for a few moments, if the last few months or weeks or days have been a dream, and that his current co-snuggler is Winry. Reality abruptly reminds him that unless Roy turned into his ex-wife last night, the Fuhrer is probably the one with their arms slung around Ed's waist (Ed's own are also wrapped around his companion's waist), their head resting on top of Ed's which is buried in their chest (that _probably_ should have indicated to the Full Metal Alchemist that his bed mate is _not_ female, but so sue him, he's still half-asleep), and their legs gently tangled with Ed's.

As more of his senses decide it's time that he should be waking up fully, he becomes aware that he's surrounded the – albeit slightly faded – smell of Roy's cologne, as well as the other man's own scent, like a warm cocoon of cinnamon, nutmeg, peppercorns, cloves, vanilla, saffron and musk. It's not altogether unpleasant, but somewhere in the back of his mind is a voice screaming at him. He ignores it – after all, they're not doing anything wrong. It was a cold night, and obviously the blanket wasn't warm enough. That's all. And it's not like anyone's going to know.

_Click_. A bright flash fills Ed's world, and it sure as hell ain't sunlight. It's gone as soon as it came, followed by several more of the same. _Click. Click. Click_. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, only to find Mei hovering near the end of the bed with a camera. Roy's _not_ going to be pleased about this… Yet the shutter doesn't seem to have woken the Flame Alchemist up at all, the heavy sleeper merely latching onto Ed again, having been shaken off. Sending Mei a death glare (to which she giggles and skips off), Ed tries to wake Roy up so that they can get to work on time. Only the other man's not having any of it. After persistent shaking of his shoulders (meaning Ed gave up after the first try and thumped him in the leg) the Fuhrer finally comes back to reality, although not flawlessly.

"Where'd the unicorns go?" he mumbles, squinting all around the room for the remnants of his dream. Annoyed with how stubborn his co-snuggler was clinging to sleep _and_ himself, Ed shoves Roy away and flings back the covers. The still half-asleep Flame Alchemist groans and covers his eyes with an arm. The fully-awake Full Metal Alchemist rolls his eyes.

"Roy, get up already."

"'S too early."

"It's _seven-thirty_! We both have work! Up!"

"Don't wanna." A petulant pout accompanies this statement, as well as another eye roll from Ed.

"I pity those who raised you. Up, or I'll _make_ you." Ed leaves the room to get breakfast ready, but he doesn't miss the sulky huff or the _thud_ as the Fuhrer's feet hit the floor. Mei's already in the kitchen, starting an omelette.

"So the two of you get along _quite_ well, eh?" she asks with a smirk. "I deleted the photographs, by the way: I like my camera so the idea of you smashing it to bits was not exactly appealing." Ed thinks to himself that his eyes might fall out of his head if he doesn't stop rolling them, but like that'll stop him. He helps her make breakfast anyway, starting up the coffee maker and putting on toast.

"We're _friends_, Mei. The blanket I had on the bed obviously wasn't warm enough. I don't even remember hugging him or anything. It was harmless. The same thing used to happen when Al and I had to share a bed and it was a freezing cold night. We'd sleep on separate sides, but wake up snuggled together. It's perfectly harmless." Mei studies him for a second and sighs.

"You do not see it, do you?"

"See what?"

"…nothing, Ed."

"Right. Because there's nothing to see! He's here because we're good friends and he needed some place to stay. Not to mention that I thought some human contact would be nice _since my wife divorced me three days ago_. He slept in my room because _you_ guys needed his room and he'd have died on the couch overnight."

"Ed, why _did_ Winry leave?"

"Because she started noticing that I wasn't in love with her anymore, we fought for about two weeks non-stop, and when we finally _stopped_ fighting and talked it out, I decided I wasn't going to lie to her anymore."

"…at least you were honest." – An uncomfortable silence falls between them, which Mei breaks abruptly – "Why did you fall out of love with Winry, though?" He sighs.

"…Look, a lot of things happened at The Battle. And for some people, like Al and Winry and Riza, it was okay because they could be happy and safe again. But others like Roy and I… we had to do things that… changed us. And we didn't know it at the time, or for a long time after that, but it changed the way we felt about the people we were in love with too. I was so wrapped up in slowly getting over the shock of everything that happened and getting used to normality that I didn't notice it – I just assumed everything was the same as it was before in that aspect of my life. Roy was the same, I guess, only he never married the woman he thought he was in love with."

"Have you ever thought, Ed, that maybe you stopped liking women altogether?"

"Hang on – _what_? How'd you come to _that_ conclusion?"

"Well on the face of it, yes, it is a bit of a naïve stretch. But just think about it: your heart was empty all that time, and maybe you did not know it, but surely you would have started falling for someone else at some point, right? But you did not, not even when you _knew _you had fallen out of love with Winry. It is obvious that your natural reflex to losing something is to replace or regain it somehow – the same as most people.

"So, based on that, when you lost your feelings for _Winry_, surely you should have started looking for someone else to fill the space by your side, even temporarily. And you did – Roy. _He_ is doing the same thing with you, of course, in lieu of having affection Riza. And, yes, perhaps it does not stretch as far as _romance_ itself, but regardless of how amorous or otherwise your feelings are for each other, you cannot deny that the both of you are filling the void, as it were." Ed doesn't like what she's insinuating, but he can't argue with her logic.

She's right – he said it himself: he and Roy were both looking for someone to brighten up a life otherwise filled with dark, threatening storm clouds with sunny smiles and compassion. He goes to say something, but Roy stumbles in, looking confused and staring at his feet.

"Was it _you_ I was hugging in my sleep?" the Fuhrer asks, his confusion facing Ed when the Full Metal Alchemist greets him.

"What? Oh. Yes, it was. Blanket mustn't have been thick enough. It's not like anyone's going to know, anyway."

"Right. Nothing to worry about then?" Ed shakes his head confidently and asks if he'd prefer coffee or sugar this morning. Not a worry in the world…

**Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t  
**

He's wrong, apparently: someone's been spying on Ed's house and saw them. Despite innumerable denials (official, off-the-record, friend-to-friend, just-between-you-and-me, you name it), rumours run rife through the military faster than school yard buzz, diva gossip and old lady chit-chat put together. Initially, the two Alchemists dismiss it: the truth will eventually prevail over scuttlebutt, they decide, and the gossipmongers will move one to some other "scandal".

For _Roy_, no one in his staff is whispering behind hands after two days, having decided that – whether they believe the two or not – there are _far_ more interesting things to talk about than a possible relationship between Ed and Roy. The Fuhrer actually overhears one man talking about it: "It doesn't even matter. I mean, who really cares if they _are_ together? Fuhrer Mustang is the best Fuhrer we've ever had and Colonel Elric is an all-round champion, hero, and saviour. I think they both deserve a little happiness after all they've done for us. Besides, I think it's about time people started being more broad-minded."

Ed's unit is _not_ so quick. In fact, they all have it ingrained in their heads that the two Alchemists are definitely in love. Most of them, like Roy's staff, are simply happy for the two of them, but unfortunately, there's _one_ man who isn't. One Private Bowman decides that Ed hasn't suffered enough in his life and immediately sets about fixing that. The private is narrow-minded about such things, and not even pay deductions succeed in dimming his "righteous" firing rage and hate.

In his frustration, Ed – who was initially quite laid-back as leader – starts becoming harsher and more pedantic about punishing Bowman for disobey orders or defying him in any way. And when the Private starts becoming verbally aggressive, Ed starts yelling back just as cruelly and loudly. It all keeps boiling to a head until, five weeks after the whole shemozzle started, Bowman makes the stupidest mistake of his life – he throws a punch at Ed, who responds in kind, only he gives as good as he gets and more. It turns into a full-on brawl which Colonel Elric quickly wins, proving to his staff – once and for all – that he was chosen for ability, not contacts.

Bowman ends up giving the Full Metal Alchemist a nasty bruise on the cheek and a bite mark on his left calf. Ed deals out two cracked ribs, one broken forearm, two black eyes, one hairline-fracture on the fibula, one fractured tibia, a dislocated jaw, and a bruised stomach. This is why he winds up sitting in front of Roy's office, mulling it all over. He'd come to love his job after the Battle: without his old worries and neuroses, he'd found that he quite liked the atmosphere. And in the space of five weeks, one idiotic moron has screwed it all up for him. He's met men like Bowman before, and he knows there are lots of them around, but it's just getting to him.

That, plus the added stress of the situation _worsening_ (it was decided – for Roy's safety – that the two Alchemists would continue living together. When Bowman found out, he went ballistic, hence Ed's current predicament), makes him think he doesn't want to be in the army anymore. He keeps hearing comments and remembering past passing eavesdrops that drip into his ears like poison, ruining the image of his work place – and, indeed, his whole career – forever. He knows it's just paranoid; he knows it's silly; hell, he knows if it was someone else, he'd be rolling his eyes and acting snarky. But he can't stop it.

He feels constricted, almost claustrophobic, with what feels like the smallest distance between himself and them – the ones who judge, mock and scorn – as if they're all squished into a train compartment, and he's smack-bang in the middle. And they keep piling in, in droves every second longer he has to wait to be called into Roy's office. By the time he's standing before the Fuhrer, he almost feels like he's being suffocated.

"…Are you alright, Full Metal?" Roy's voice floats towards him, bringing him back to Earth. In the office, of course, they have to be more formal with each other, in order to maintain a purely professional relationship in the workplace. As Roy says, they can be friends all they like outside; but inside, they're professionals.

"Yes. Sorry, sir." The man surveys Ed over tented fingers, concern in his eyes, but says nothing more of it.

"According to the report, which I've already read, you attacked Private Bowman, causing him multiple injuries while you, yourself, escaped the scuffle relatively unscathed. Several of your staff members have reported that you have been verbally abusive toward him prior to this incident. Care to explain?" Ed keeps his composure and remains standing at attention.

"What my staff has _failed_ to tell you is that not only did Bowman initiate any and all hostilities, but he resisted all forms of passive punishment – including deductions in pay. Furthermore, I feel that his behaviour had reached the point that I had no choice other than to go to the lengths that I did, as I prefer not to bother higher authorities with such trivialities."

"So, you're telling me that Bowman instigated both the verbal abuse and the fight? In other words, you claim self-defence?"

"Correct."

"Well, luckily for you, Private Bowman has a long history of violence and disrespect for authority, so I believe you. That doesn't excuse how badly you injured him, though. I realise he's been testing your patience a lot, and that he attacked first, but _you_ put him in hospital, Full Metal. We can't have that."

"I know, sir. That's why I'm resigning." The words are out of Ed's mouth before he realises what he's said and he has to fight to keep composed as Roy begins spluttering. He never meant, stewing in his own thoughts, to _resign_, but it makes sense. After all, he can't keep working somewhere he feels suffocated.

"Ed, do you know what you're saying?" _All formalities have officially been dropped. You're on your own, bud._

"Yes. I know you probably weren't going to suggest something _that_ extreme, but I've been thinking, and it's what I believe is best for everyone, including _me_."

"But why go so far as to quit? There are lots of other options out there, and I want a reason as to why you're choosing this one!" Ed knows that Roy's just worried about him throwing his life away, but he's exhausted and a little infuriated at life itself. So he rants and rages, finally getting it all off his chest.

"I'm quitting because I'm tired, Roy. _Very_ tired. Well, more like _sick and tired_, actually. I keep wondering to myself, _why does life have to be so complicated_? There are so many feelings out there that are thrown at you and taken away from you, and you're never ready for it. People who say they're ready for whatever life throws at them are bull-shitters, because how _can_ you be ready? People like to think there's a plan in life, like someone's got it all figured out and we're all just playing out the scene. There's no fucking plan; there never _has _been. It's random. Everything's random. I don't get why people _wanna_ believe there is. Because, really? People wanna believe there's some psychotic bastard controlling us all like puppets? That we don't get a choice in the matter? _Bullshit_.

"We _all_ have a choice in what we do: some people like that just wanna blame other people for all the mistakes _they_ make that have fucked up their lives and other people's lives too – I say _some_, because I know not all of them do. Most of them are okay, and I can deal with them. But the morons who _are_ like that? I can't _stand_ them. They go on about how nothing's their fault when things go _wrong_, but they never give whoever's apparently pulling their stings all the credit when things go _right_, do they? And then those idiots have the nerve to say that certain people are going to rot in hell or get punished for their beliefs or their sexuality or whatever the hell it is those poor people are being persecuted for. Surely if we're all just marionettes, _they_ don't have a choice in how they are or what they believe, right? Or is that another exception? And it's another reason to start wars and kill and hurt people for no real reason too, right?

"They go on and on about what they believe this Almighty Puppet Master has told them, and add in bits about how they're supposed to kill, maim, traumatize, and generally completely fuck up other people's lives because that was included in their orders. Well you know what? Fuck them. I'm sick of that shit, so I'm done with the military because there are so many morons like that and I can't _stand_ it anymore. Get mad at me all you like, but I'm done. I've seen too much of this shit already, and I've met that so-called Almighty Puppet Master. I can tell you now, He might know everything about it, but He doesn't have anything to do with our world, and He doesn't want to. He's got better things to think about and do, than talk to a bunch of sadistic, bloodthirsty, prejudiced, inconsiderate, apathetic, amoral, moronic _bastards_ who just want to pretend He's told them to kill off a heap of people they don't happen to like, or to justify how much they hate a certain group of people by saying He hates them too.

"And I know you don't believe in that shit yourself: I know you were there too and that you met Him. How could I forget? It's what's brought us closer together. So I also know you agree with me, but you can't _say_ it because you're surrounded by these morons. I am too, and I just can't take it anymore, Roy. I'm sick and tired of it. I don't wanna be here anymore, serving alongside and under these assholes. So I quit. I'm getting out of the military. I'm going to go work at the Library – I've always loved books, so it'll make me happy to be there. They already have a position lined up for me and everything. If you wanna discuss my decision later, I'm more than happy to talk about it at home, but I'm telling you now: nothing's going to change my mind. I'm out and that's that. See you at home." With that, he storms out of the office.

Halfway home, he realizes that he's probably made a huge mistake, and that he's really going to regret it all in the morning, especially the lie about having a job at the Library. He knows Roy knows he was lying, which makes it even worse, but right now, he couldn't care less. Even though it's still pouring down like a waterfall from the heavens, Ed could swear that he can feel the sun shining down on him through a gap in the clouds, because he realizes something else: he's free. Free from stress; free from worry; just plain _free as a bird_.

He practically skips the rest of the way, and Al accuses him of trilling the good news over the phone, but nothing seems to be able to put a dampener back on his day. That is, until the phone rings for him, and an all-too-familiar voice issues forth from the receiver.

"_Um, hi, Ed. It's Winry, if you hadn't noticed. Look, could we talk…?_"


	5. Chapter 4

_**Telecommunications Turn the Troubled To Treacherous Thoughts of Terrible Things**_

"What the hell was that?! Resigning?! You don't resign from the army – you either die or get discharged."

That's what Roy has spent the rest of his day planning to say to (or rather, scream at) Ed when he gets home (no, not home – _Ed's house_). He's planned a whole self-righteously angry speech to slam Ed with. Funnily enough, he knows for the fact that the only part of his little monologue that has any truth to it is that third line. But still: his position as Fuhrer doesn't allow for that sort of truth.

So he drives home, all fired up, ready to go in with guns blazing, and attack on sight. And then it all falls away when he sees the crumpled heat of red, black, and gold curled up on the couch in the living room. The phone is sat next to it, and Roy cautiously picks it up. A drunken voice is (that sounds suspiciously like Winry's) blaring a foul soliloquy of blame and hatred on the other end. Each sentence is punctuated by a pause and a gulp, indicating that the caller is drinking as they speak.

"_An' I said t' m'self, y'know maybe he'll get over it. Come to his senses. I mean, who _marries _someone if they don't love 'em? Butcha didn't. An' then ya turn around an' start sleepin' with yer boss – a _guy _? Don' deny it – I heard the rumors. I seen the pictures they got. That stupid…_" Sick to his stomach, Roy hangs up and sits next to the blond, crumpled form. The younger man sniffles once, then takes a shuddering breath.

"She called as soon as I got home." – A sad, broken version of Ed's proud tone floats out of the miserable figure next to Roy. – "I-I tried to explain. She wouldn't listen. No matter what I said, she just kept going on and on about it, and then she started drinking, and…"

"I'm sorry," Roy says quietly. Ed lets out a miserable chuckle and unfolds to sit up properly.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for and you know it. You're just saying it because you don't know what to say."

"_Is_ there anything else to say?" Roy challenges. Another chuckle – stronger, less upset this time.

"Not really. 'That sucks' sounds condescending. 'Could be worse' is just idiotic. 'You've still got me and everyone else' is just plain _cheesy_. And calling her a bitch is just not satisfactory without her here to hear it."

"Doesn't make her any less of one." A companionable silence falls over the two of them.

"It changes nothing you know."

"Huh?"

"I'm still…let's call it 'retiring'."

"The 'job offer' is a lie; I know that, Ed."

"Yeah…but I'll find one."

"People don't just _leave the army_, you know."

"I did."

"Not yet."

"I resigned!"

"Verbally. I don't have to accept it."

"No," Ed agrees. "But you will." Roy sighs.

"It's not that simple, Ed. I can't do it – there's no paperwork. And – before you suggest it – drawing up the papers, even for _me_, could take…well, who _knows_ how long."

"Dammit Roy," Ed growls. "Discharge me then!"

"What for? You're not over 65. You're fit and healthy – in fact, you're fitter and healthier than when you _joined_."

"Insubordination. Or maybe because I put that douchebag Bowman in hospital. Or both. Put both, actually." Roy's eyes widen in incredulity.

"What? Discharge you dishonorably?" Ed shrugs.

"I don't mind."

"_I_ do! The next guy who hires you will! Besides, you saved the world, Ed!"

"Don't talk about it!"

"I know, I know, it's not conversation, and I wasn't going to make it so. But that doesn't make it any less true, Ed, and it's why I won't…no, _can't_, discharge you dishonorably."

"Fine! Put that in then – 'Ed saved the world, and he wants out of the army, so honorably discharge for him!' Win-win for all of us."

"You _must_ be desperate if you'll let me do _that_."

"_Will_ you do it?"

"…for you, Ed, yes."

"Then, fine. Do it."

"There'll be awards ceremonies. And medals."

"If you make me stay, I'll do more than break some bones and dish out bruises to the next Private who gets lippy with me."

"How does this make our little living arrangement look, though? Only 20 years old, and I'm discharging you already? And with honors? People will _talk_ Ed." Roy's getting desperate now, and they both know it. But they both also know there's no talking Ed out of this one.

"People do little else."

"They'll spread rumors about us."

"So what? They already do! Let 'em cluck like hens."

"And what? Face a revolution?"

"People don't _care_, Roy."

"They care enough to _talk_. Who says they won't care enough to rebel some day? And angry man makes justifications he never would in his right mind."

"And a fool believes him," Ed snaps.

"Anger can make a multitude foolish," Roy counters.

"You have an army. One of the best armies in the world."

"One of my best lieutenants wants to be discharged, and rumbles of discontent ring through the ranks."

"It'll all come to nothing if they rebel."

"That's not guaranteed."

"Then retire yourself, and quit worrying already."

"And be known as a coward?"

"Ok, fine. Worry yourself sick and ignore all sense of sensibility. When your ulcer causes a heart attack, you won't have to worry anymore. That is, if the aneurysm doesn't kill you first." Roy frowns at this.

"I'm only being logical, Ed. I can't afford scandals or rumors anymore – there's just too much at stake!"

"Oh for the love of— you act like it's the worst thing in the world for someone to think that you're dating me!"

"Why do you even _care_, Ed? It's not even true!"

"Would it really be so terrible if it _was?_" The question – unexpected and abrupt – startles both of them. Ed quickly leaves the room blushing.

"Ed…" Roy calls out lamely. But what can he say?

He doesn't want to date Ed…he doesn't think. Being the man he is, he's never been exclusively straight. He freely admits that, although in the public eye he is more likely to be seen escorting a pretty, young, buxom lady than a handsome young man (it's purely a PR thing). But is Ed what he wants? Sure, he admires Full Metal: going through so much at such a young age, it's a miracle that the younger alchemist hasn't had some kind of major psychological breakdown. And Ed is, undoubtedly, one of his closest friends. But that doesn't necessarily mean that his affections go further than the bounds of friendship.

Objectively, he knows Ed is a catch he'd fish for under normal circumstances. But the two have known each other since Ed was in his teens: Roy's literally watched him grow from a snot-nosed tween brat into a respected young gentleman. And while the younger man has always been mature for his age, there's alarm bells screaming "_Predator_!" in his head. After all, even if people are supportive _now_, they probably won't be later, and when they do, 'predator' is what they'll be screaming at him. And no matter how many times he says "This is _very_ recent," or "Such inclinations occurred to me after we began living together," or "Until 4 years ago, we barely tolerated each other," the public will never believe it.

No, it's best to leave things as they are. Less mess. Especially once he moves out. It simply won't do for the Fuhrer to be living in the same house as a man who he has been rumored to be sleeping with him and who Roy _also _has discharged honorably – a very easy way of getting around the little rule of superiors and subordinates staying off the notches in each other's bed posts. That wouldn't do at all. He'll look for a new place in the morning.

If he falls asleep, dreaming of golden braids, red coats, eyes like melted honey, and smiles made of pure sunbeams…well…no one needs to know that. And if the thought of never being bathed in the sunshine of that smile presses on his subconscious so he throws the paper in the recycling without so much as _glancing_ at the property section, no one needs to know that either.


	6. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5: Aneurysms, Anger, and Angling for an Angel**_

Ed gets his discharge a month after he first asks for it. Roy retires him from the Army with highest honors and decorates him lavishly. The Full Metal Alchemist scowls through 13 award ceremonies and falls asleep during the 14th. With his army pension, he finds he doesn't need to find another job. This works perfectly because as far as everyone else in the world is concerned, Edward Elric should never have to work again. 20 years old, and he's fully retired. He lasts exactly a month before his level of cabin fever becomes a devastating force of his nature.

Armed with his alchemy, power tools, and misplaced confidence in his tinkering "skills", he busies himself "fixing" various things around the house. The rampage lasts 15 days, coming to an end only when Al (who was called in when Roy saw Ed eyeing their computer and muttering about RAM) confiscates his tools. Among the casualties are: the toaster, the oven, the dining table, the bookshelf, the laundry tap, Ed's desk, Roy's computer chair, the couch, and the radio. Ed argues that they're all working better now. Roy points out that a dining table can't be sat at with regular dining chairs if said table has no legs.

After some goading from Al and Mei, Ed begins doing volunteer work in the community. He fixes things, helps build things, and every now and then saves a life or two. Everyone commends him, but Ed just feels empty. The more time goes on, the more he comes to realize what he gave up when he forced Roy to retire him. Sure, he's not in that poisonous environment of what used to be his unit anymore (asking to change units, or even just getting Bowman fired, would have done the same thing). But he's lost his purpose; his reason to wake up. And, worst of all, he's lost the friendship he once had with Roy.

The Flame Alchemist rarely speaks to him at great length anymore, apart from the cordiality of could expect from a roommate. Ed wonders often whether it's because of his retirement, or if it's because of what he shouted at Roy the about the two of them day he resigned. He knows why he shouted it: he's had _plenty_ of time to think about it all and figure such things out. He doesn't love Roy, but his feelings have been undeniably shifting in that direction for a while now. But if the Fuhrer's actions are anything to go by, Roy definitely does _not _feel the same way. Ever since that fight, Mustang has been going through partners faster than the over-emotional go through tissues when reading a sad story where everyone dies poignantly.

And it canes Ed like a swift kick to the groin. Still, if there's one thing Ed is grateful for about it all, it's that Roy never brings them to Ed's house: he drives home the morning after from wherever he took them the night before – a motel, a hotel, their house –, stinking of sweat and someone else's scent. Ed quickly notices that whenever he tries to force Roy to actually talk to him – about _anything_, not just their friendship – the other man responds by going out and finding his next conquest. So Ed stops trying to talk to him. Jealousy and hurt fuel pride and anger.

It's not until Ed and Roy are invited to Mei and Al's that Ed decides to completely give up. Roy has politely informed everyone that he going to be bringing some brain-dead piece of fluff and Ed's heart can't take it. He invites a man from five blocks over who's been hitting on him for three weeks. Henry is a year older than Ed, relatively intelligent and quite handsome. As a business man, he looks sleek and professional: dark brown hair slicked back neatly, ice-blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. Even better, he's kind and charming and funny and he smiles warmly at Ed. But all the charming warm smiles in the world can't stop the Full Metal Alchemist from feeling like the sun in his sky has disappeared forever.

**Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-****Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t**

Roy hates Henry. He hates his smile and his laugh and his voice and his face and the way he can make even a ghost of a smile appear on Ed's face. From the moment he meets Henry, the Flame Alchemist wants for nothing more than to punch the businessman in the face. He knows he shouldn't: apart from the fact that he's decided absolutely _not_ to let himself have feelings for Ed, it would be more than a little hypocritical for him to react as he has, even internally. But like a man who leaves an apple (because he's sure no one will take it) in favor of eating a lot of grapes instead, only to find someone else eating the apple he "didn't want", Roy is angry. And he does a rather poor job of hiding it.

He is rude and aloof to Henry, ignores Kathryn (or was it Taylor…?) completely, snaps at himself, and keeps positioning himself near Ed possessively at every given opportunity. It all comes to a head when Roy – in a display of insensitivity and rudeness that even _he_ had considered himself better than – insinuates that Henry is using Ed to gain publicity for his company. The result is a screaming match between the righteously angry businessman and the not-quite-so-righteously angry Fuhrer that nearly becomes physical. Then his date yells at him and slams the door behind her as she leaves in a huff, and soon after that, Al – sick of Roy's antics – kicks him out of the house. Roy storms home furiously, only to receive a phone call the moment he's in the door.

"You bastard!" It's Mary…or Irene…or Abigail…?

"Oh, what are you whining about Wendy?" he sneers callously.

"It's Victoria, and I'm complaining because I did _not_ sign up for an evening of watching the Fuhrer make bedroom-eyes at his roommate and pick fights with said roommate's date!"

"I did not—"

"Save it for the press conference, Mustang."

"Excuse—"

"I'm a reporter, dumbass. Sure, tonight was a chance to maybe have sex with the country's leader. But it was also a job getting info about that personal life of yours that you keep so secret. And I got a big fat _nothing_ on _both_ counts! Nothing new that no one already knows! At all! 'Full Metal and Flame in love' – last year's news! 'Both vehemently deny it' – boring! The only _actual_ news is that your blond beau is moving on while _you_ fill the void with whoever comes along next. I was expecting some sort of secret relationship filling the air with sexual tension. What I got was the dumb player pissed off that denying his feelings and fucking everything that walks _except_ the person he loves somehow _wasn't_ enough to hold onto his special someone. Goddamn you." The sharp click and loud dial tone fill a stunned silence where Roy realizes Carrie was right (although his remembrance of her name still isn't).

He loves Ed. He can deny it all he likes to anyone else, but it's true, in the end. He's just been running away from his feelings so long that he's forgotten that they can change on their own. And what used to be the start of caring for someone as more than a friend has blossomed into love. He replaces the phone on its receiver just as the front door clicks shut.

He doesn't really know what to expect. Perhaps Ed will come storming in, screaming; a fight where the truth comes pouring out and everything becomes clear, and they wind up tangled on the couch. Or maybe he'll be tossed out, having to beg Ed to be allowed back in. But Ed doesn't even glance at Roy once as the younger man moves toward his bedroom. Feeling guilty, Roy decides it's appropriate to apologize.

"Ed…" Tired gold eyes turn to him.

"Don't, Roy. You're feeling guilty, but you don't actually care. So just…don't bother saying you're sorry because you're not. Just let me go, Roy. Please." Panic sets in.

"But…"

"Roy, I walked a guy home tonight, and by all rights, I should have apologized to him for the way you acted. But I didn't. He started complaining about it and I defended you. I can't be doing that, Roy. You need to let me move on. For God's sake, I can't lead my life waiting and wishing and wanting for something that is never going to happen."

"Who _ever_ said that?" Roy snaps. "When did _I_ ever say that?" Ed rolls his eyes.

"You may as well have, Roy. I laid my heart out on the line, and you tossed it back at me. I put myself out there and asked if you thought dating me would actually be so terrible. And you refused to even answer me. And then you went out of your way to avoid any conversation with me deeper than "How was your day?" and went around screwing anything with a pulse—"

"I was _scared_, Ed. I still _am_."

"You think I'm not?!" Roy shakes his head.

"Not like _I_ am. It might've escaped your notice, but I have enemies, Ed. Lots of them. Some of them are quite powerful ones. Hell, I probably made one tonight!"

"I can look after myself!"

"That's not what I'm so scared of – I mean, I _am_ scared they might do something to you, but it's not just that. Ed, do you know what they'd say about me if we started dating? They'd say I'd been planning it. That, ever since I met you, I'd had inclinations and impulses. They'd postulate that I'd aced on them years ago. That I'd pulled rank or made threats against you or Al and _forced_ you into it – if not years ago, then now. They'd say I coerced you to be with me, and that the only reason you started responding was that you were suffering from Stockholm syndrome."

"It wouldn't even be true! Why would you even care—?"

"They'd call me a pedophile, Ed! And true or not, rumors like that stick pretty permanently. I'd be the Fuhrer Accused of Pedophilia. There'd have inquiries, but even when it all came back with my name and image cleared, it wouldn't change a thing. No amount of damage control saves you from that _that_. And not just as a political figure, oh no. as a person, I would be stained for the rest of my life. I'd have to leave my job to start with. Then, after practically being dishonorably discharged, I'd never work again, because no one would ever be dumb enough to employ me. People would keep their kids away from me – even people who said that they believed the truth. And people who didn't would get whispered about like they were horrible parents and putting their children in grave danger.

"And then there's _you_. You think it's bad now, the way people treat you? It'd get worse. People would treat you like a three-legged cat. You'd be molly-coddled and talked about behind your back for the rest of your life. People always telling you that 'It's ok, you can be brave. We're all behind you, you're in control, don't let anyone control you'. Never mind that you were both married and divorced long before we even began to have feelings for each other: you'd be known as the victim who couldn't let go, far too used to the a cycle of abuse to know things could be different. And forget about kids – once they knew who _I_ was, you'd never find a surrogate or an adoption agency that'd ok it."

"You…you thought about this. You thought of it far enough ahead to think of having kids."

"Ed, that's my point. I thought about it, and knew it would go wrong."

"But you thought about it – you _want_ a relationship."

"That's…I…yes, but—"

"No, no buts. Do you want a relationship with me?"

"Ed—"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes…b—"

"Then who _cares_? Everyone who matters knows the truth. I don't care what people say about you when they're lying. I don't care if I don't have kids, ever. I want us to be together. And so do you. _That's_ what matters to me. And I know that, for you, image is important. But is it so vital that you're willing to give up everything that could ever make you happy? Or are you willing to _try,_ Roy?" Roy's heartbeat is out of control.

What does he want more? That's what the question really is. Does he want the life he has – his position, his name clear, and all those other things? His office. His country. His army. His power. His status. Everything he's worked for all his life. Everything he's achieved. It could all be forgotten if things go the way he thinks they will – and he's not often wrong about these things. Does he really want to let it slip through his fingers?

Or does he want Ed? Handsome, funny, sassy Ed. The genius with a heart of gold who saved the world. The milk-hating brat who – even now – is overly-sensitive about his height (even with his growth spurt, he's still 3 inches shorter than Roy). The guy who puts everything on the line for family and anyone else he cares about. The cheeky insubordinate who wormed his way into Roy's heart with a healthy dose of sarcasm and disobedience, and a devil-may-care attitude. The boy who became a man far too young, burning down his own house so that he'd never be able to go home – to force himself to keep going, no matter what. The headstrong, stubborn, brave man with a smile like sunshine. The very sunbeams that have chased away the dark clouds that have been threatening to overtake Roy from the moment Riza stormed out. There's no choice really. He steps toward the other alchemist.

"Ed…" Ed holds up a hand.

"I know that this is a big decision for you, Roy. I'm not asking for an answer _right now_: take as long as you need to think about it. I know what you think I'm asking you, but I promise I'm not. I—" Roy's heard enough talking from the both of them. He steps forward again and puts his hands on Ed's shoulders, stooping a little to look the shorter man in the eyes. Coal black stares earnestly into nervous honey-gold.

"Some things don't need to be thought about."


	7. Epilogue

_**Every Ending is Epitomized in the Epilogue**_

_One Year Later_

Ed stands nervously before the mirror, checking his suit for creases, making sure his bowtie is straight…okay, so he's not really checking his outfit. Although _why_ he let Al talk him into wearing his hair in a ponytail like their father used to, he'll never know. Screw looking "more respectable" – he is _not_ the effeminate one in his relationship, so why should _he_ be the one with the girly hairdo?! He fusses with his bowtie a bit more…then his tux…then his lapels….then his gloves…then his hair ribbon… Hands gently clamp onto his, stilling the nervous movements. He looks up at the figure behind him through the mirror, startled.

"Calm down. It's going to be fine. You look perfect." Ed huffs irritably at his boyfriend.

"You always say that," he grumbles as arms slip carefully around his waist from behind.

"It's always true," Roy shrugs, dropping a kiss on the top of Ed's head. The blond rolls his eyes.

"We're keeping it PG till this evening, no matter what you say, you know."

"Don't be like that, darling – it might calm your nerves," Roy teases. Ed stomps his heel on Roy's foot in response.

"Just cuz _you're_ in control of your nerves, Mr. Fuhrer."

"Oh, c'mon, it's not even that big a deal!"

"It _is_ a big deal!"

"Ed, we're just going out to dinner with Al and Mei."

"At _the_ most expensive restaurant in the country."

"We can afford it, Ed."

"We'll be _in public_. _Together_."

"We've been in public together before. Remember when that reporter photographed us kissing in the park? The pictures sold for a hundred dollars. Each."

"Which _you_ only know because you bought one. Not the whole lot plus the negatives, no, just _one_ of them. And then you stuck it on the fridge. And then in a frame."

Through the mirror, Ed sees the gentle smile on Roy's face widen a fraction at the thought of the photo on top of the fireplace, next to all the other photos of them and their kith and kin. He knows that it's Roy's favorite photo of just the two of them. Ed, personally, prefers the one Mei took of them laughing together in the middle of a water fight last summer. Roy's eyes and hair may be as dark as night, but all Ed can see in that photo is a man as bright and warm as the sun. _His_ sun.

"What are _you_ smiling about?" Roy asks, playfully suspicious.

"Nothing special," Ed lies nonchalantly. The Flame Alchemist is silent for a few seconds, then shrugs and kisses Ed on the head again. The doorbell rings.

"I'll get that. You go back to fussing." Ed aims a backwards kick at him, and misses by miles. Roy scarpers, laughing like a loon. The blond huffs and begins to fiddle with his attire again.

**Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t-Fu££-M3t £- £cH3m1$t**

Roy bounds downstairs, grinning up a storm. He pats his jacket pocket and the smile on his face becomes more of a soft, secretive grin. He feels like he's off to steal the sun, and he couldn't care less if no one but him is ever allowed to see it again. Opening the door, he finds an equally jubilant Mei and Al on his doorstep. The limo (which Ed knows nothing about at this point) still hasn't arrived, so Roy invites them in. Mei looks stunning in scarlet satin, and Al looks equal parts handsome and proud in a black tuxedo. Having known the other man for so long as a soul bound to a suit of armor for so long – from the moment they first met until the Battle – Roy honestly can't get over how Al looks as a human some days, even though it's been over five years since the younger Elric got his body back. The body that Ed retrieved for him, searching for almost a decade for the solution to his brother's dilemma.

"Some fancy Valentine's Day you've got planned for my brother," Al grins, oblivious to Roy's wonderment. "Does he know…?" Roy shakes his head.

"He managed to weasel where we're going out of me, but everything else is a mystery." Mei's eyes light up even more.

"I need to go to the toilet, but this is too exciting," she squeals – mutedly, though, because as much as hyped-up as she is, she's far more excited to see Ed's reaction to everything Roy has planned. "Show us it again!" After making sure Ed's nowhere close by, Roy takes the velvet box out of his pocket and opens it toward Mei and Al.

A silver ring with a flame-colored stone that seems to dance like fire in the light sits in the satin lining of the small, burgundy box. Engraved on the ring's inner side of the band is a quote: "_You are my sunshine_". It's an old song Roy heard once, many years ago. And he can't think of anything that could ever be more fitting to put on the ring of a man with a smile like pure sunbeams. The man who – hopefully – will agree to be with him forevermore…and who Roy fully intends to devote his life and beyond to.

"Roy, are you gonna tell me who's here or not?! Idiot Taisa!" Roy snaps the box shut and stuffs it back in his pocket.

"It's Al and Mei, dumbass, who'd you think it'd be?"

"I hope you like the couch, cuz that's where you're spending the next week with just your palms for company, you baka!" Roy smiles stupidly as Mei and Al erupt into peals of laughter. (And if Ed happens to change his mind just before dessert arrives…well…we don't need to know that, really, do we?)


	8. Extra

**_Afterthought For Anyone Wondering What Happened to Truth_**

_Meanwhile…_

Truth smirks to Himself. For almost two years He has suffered. Two years of falling in love with Riza Hawkeye whilst already head over heels for Winry Rockbell. Neither of whom He has ever met. Nor does he ever intend to. But no more. He's finally free of all that angst and emotion. He passed them onto some moron who wanted to revive someone he hated so he could have the 'pleasure' of killing the other man himself. His need to be consumed by hatred will soon be overcome by conflicted feelings of love for two women who are likely either to throw heavy objects at him or shoot him in the face if he approaches them.

_It'll probably make him suicidal_, Truth had reflected and immediately dumped the emotions on the hapless man.

Even in His place of solitude, far removed from the man's world, Truth can hear the wails of despair cried only by those whose feelings conflict so dramatically and gut-wrenchingly that one would think they could only belong to soap opera characters. Just the reaction He was hoping for; He smirks in gratification.

"Balance is finally restored," He declares smugly. "And the next damn Alchemist who appears here is getting a swift kick in the _cojones_!" Of course, He doesn't keep that promise. And He's no idea why a man's eyelashes would be so important to him, but they feel kinda creepy on His face.

_Perhaps_, He reflects, _the whole equivalent exchange thing is just not working. I mean, it's meant to be a disincentive against these idiots resurrecting people, but they're just not discouraged from doing it enough. I may need to get tougher from now on. But how…?_

And Truth ponders this quandary for a whole 30 minutes before the next idiot decides they want to bring someone back from the Void. After all, someone always does in the end. Like the sun follows the moon, some mourners just can't let go. And that's the truth of it.

~END~

* * *

**Thank you so much to everyone who read this story! I know it took a long time for these last few chapters to pop up, but I got there in the end! -w-**

**Lots of love, KQH**


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